


Always Goin', Don't Know Where

by Lady_Ganesh



Category: Some Like It Hot (1959)
Genre: Anniversary, F/M, First Anniversary, Other, Post-Canon, Travel, Wedding Day, is it a road trip if you're on a yacht?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-26
Updated: 2019-07-26
Packaged: 2020-07-19 23:04:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19982023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Ganesh/pseuds/Lady_Ganesh
Summary: Daphne and Osgood, from Havana to Tijuana and back again.





	Always Goin', Don't Know Where

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tablelamp](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tablelamp/gifts).



Havana was where Osgood really started _spending._

Osgood was one of those men who'd grown up with so much money they didn't even understand what having money _meant._ Asking about prices was something that happened to other people. Osgood just picked out the freshest oysters and the biggest hotel rooms, and signed his name like it was nothing. Daphne wondered what his mother thought of it all, but Daphne wasn't the kind of girl to pry. Prying might kill the golden goose, after all.

And Osgood liked gold. Gold and diamonds and real silk stockings and decent heels, the kind that would actually hold a girl up rather than leaving her teetering around like a stork. Osgood bought her a whole new wardrobe in Havana, before he'd even found a place where they could get married. "Only the best," he'd said, and left Daphne to the mercy of half-a-dozen simpering shopgirls, each one with dollar signs in their eyes.

In the end, they were happy and Daphne was happy, and one of the younger girls had even given her a few tips for keeping her bosoms in place. "He is not handsome, your Mr. Osgood," she'd said. "But he is rich, and that is better."

"Oh, he's real sweet once you get to know him," Daphne had told her. 

"Sweet and rich, that is perfect," she'd said. "Like good coffee."

When they'd gotten back to the ship, Osgood had brought out the jewels. "I did a little shopping of my own," he said, and pulled out a little gray case. Inside was a pair of ruby earrings. Osgood was partial to diamonds, and Daphne was fine with diamonds, but every girl liked a little variety.

"I want you to promise me something," Osgood said.

"What's that?"

"I'm going to take you to dinner for our first anniversary," he said. "Right here in Havana. And I want you to wear those, all right?"

"All right," Daphne said. An anniversary seemed impossible. Osgood's absolute confidence that things would turn out for the best, no matter what those things were, was oddly charming, most of the time. But there was no way this would last a year. Osgood's longest marriage had lasted eight months, and his mother would see right through this whole little facade and send it to the bottom of the ocean long before there was a ring on Daphne's finger.

But Havana was nice. Maybe there'd be alimony--or a settlement--that would pay for some time in the city. Chicago definitely wasn't an option. Joe and Sugar were thinking about the West Coast, maybe Tijuana. Somewhere a musician could blend in and the mob wouldn't bother looking. Osgood insisted that a few calls--and more importantly, a few payments--would make all of it go away, but Daphne had learned long ago not to take anything on faith.

The earrings didn't pinch much, and they did look darling on Daphne's ears. And if it came time to hock them, then, well. That was what it was going to be. 

"Darling," Osgood said, taking Daphne's hand. "Don't worry so much! Everything's going to be just fine."

When Osgood grinned his big sappy grin and said things like that, Daphne really, really wanted to believe him.

Mama's dress was white lace, but Daphne had been right that it didn't fit her at all. 

"Well," Mama said. "She's a big girl, isn't she?"

"She sure is, Mama."

"I do have a good feeling about this one, Osgood. She's got spice."

"Doesn't she? You should've seen her when we first met."

Osgood and Mama had been all around the world, and she'd seen a lot of things. When Auntie Gladys came to visit, she’d told Osgood the best stories too, about their lives as showgirls before Mama had settled down and married Daddy. "Don't let her get all prudish on you," Auntie had always told Osgood. "She's seen things that would make your hair curl."

"I don't think there's much fear of that, Auntie," he said. But he'd remembered it on the boat, when Daphne had gathered up her courage and told him the truth. 

He'd left Daphne shopping for dresses in that little boutique in Havana he'd always liked and gone shopping for earrings. Mama had caught him up when he was taking his purchases back to the hotel safe. "Well, Osgood," she said. "I do hope you know what you're getting into."

"Oh, I think I do," he said.

"At least she's not a dancer," Mama said. 

"I'm going to keep her, Mama," he said. "Whatever it takes."

Auntie's stories about Havana had paid off, though; he knew every place in the city he could get a marriage license, and better yet, every place that wouldn't ask too many questions.

"Don't want a blood test, eh, Señor?" the young man he made the arrangements with asked, with a wink.

"She can't have children," Osgood said. "It seems cruel to make her go through all that for nothing, doesn't it?"

The man might not have agreed, but he agreed with the money Osgood handed over, and that was enough for Osgood.

When he picked up Daphne, she had a garment bag full of clothes. "I can't show you," she said, clutching it all to her chest. "It's bad luck to see the wedding dress before the day."

"All right, all right. Whatever makes you happy, dear."

Mama would get to see it, anyway. Daphne was a force of nature, but Mama was a gale force hurricane. And Osgood had been in the Great Tampa Bay Hurricane; he knew what he was taking about. He hadn't even been able to push her on the guest list, which was at least three dozen people too long and growing. He was half-tempted to take Daphne and elope, but Mama's heart might not take it. Not when he was marrying someone she actually approved of.

His first wife had hocked Mama's earrings at a pawn shop in Tijuana, and he'd had to pay almost twice their value to get the darn things back. She hadn't even joked about letting any of the others get their hands on as much as a gold chain. 

"She could wear my star sapphire," she said, matter-of-factly, after she and Daphne had gone shopping to pick out the right shoes. "I think it'd be just the thing."

"Whatever you agree on, Mama," Osgood said, but his heart was singing.

"A modest little affair," in Osgood's words, had inevitably turned into a hundred people, a band, a catered dinner, and a cake that boasted a different flavor in each of its five layers. Daphne looked at the little sugar paste bride and groom on top and wondered why any of this had seemed like a good idea at all.

"Oh, Daphne, isn't it perfect?" Sugar squeaked, and seeing sugar meant Joe wasn't far behind, and Daphne stopped sulking, distracted by having friends again.

By the end of the party, they'd all had too much champagne, and Joe, Sugar and Daphne had spent most of their time chatting up the band, who'd let Sugar come in and sing after Joe and Daphne's enthusiastic recommendation. Sugar was wearing a new dress, something with blue iridescent spangles, and Daphne was just grateful she wasn't Osgood's type. As it was, Joe kept looking at the guests like he was expecting a fight to break out, and he was going to be the cause.

Daphne couldn’t help feeling a little smug when Osgood came calling at the end of the night. "There's the prettiest girl in the city," he said. "Ready for our honeymoon, darling? Always leave them wanting more, I say."

Was Daphne ready for their honeymoon? Better to put on a brave face, no matter what. Daphne held out a perfectly gloved hand. "Lead on, Osgood."

The second month they were married, Daphne looked in the mirror for a long time and said, "Osgood, I want to be Jerry for a while."

"We can go to Martinique," Osgood said, and after three months of knowing Osgood, Jerry still didn't know what that _meant_ but knew enough to not question the details. "It's nice this time of year."

In Martinique they got a few looks, but no one asked questions. Osgood held his hand and beamed like the sunlight. _What a sap he is,_ Jerry thought, and held Osgood's hand tighter.

"Jerry's fine," Osgood said, as they went to bed that night. "I like him just as much as I do Daphne."

"Thanks, Osgood," said, and turned out the light.

Osgood kissed him just the same, too.

They went through the Panama Canal for their six-month anniversary. Osgood piled the deck with coconuts and they drank coconut milk for days. The cook made cream pies in the evening, because it was too hot to bother with the oven during the day. They were all tired of coconuts by the time they made it to Tijuana, but by then they'd loaded the galley with rum, so it didn't matter as much.

"Where did you _get_ this?" Sugar asked. "It's like pure battery acid, only it tastes good!"

"Oh, I've got my connections," Osgood said. "But you've got to tell me all the hot spots here. I haven't gone dancing since we left Panama!"

"Are you working anywhere?"

"Joe is," Sugar said, with a bit of a sulk. "He keeps saying I should hold out for better gigs, but I say if all I do is stay home, no one's going to see me to offer me anything better."

"She's got a point," Daphne said. "Maybe you can find another girl band."

"You could play with us, if you stayed a while." 

It'd been too long since Daphne had played anything at all. It'd taken months just to find a new bull fiddle, and it hadn't been in the greatest shape. 

"We could look for a better instrument here in Tijuana," Osgood suggested. "We could even take a day trip to San Diego!"

"Let's give it a shot," Daphne said.

"You're really going to stay?" Joe asked later, while Sugar washed out the dishes. 

"I don't see why not," Daphne said. "Osgood wants to be back in Havana for our anniversary, but other than that, we don't exactly have plans."

"Okay," Joe said, and poured out another glass of rum. 

"And things are...okay?" Joe asked later, as Osgood and Sugar led the way to the club, Sugar leaning affectionately on Osgood's arm, a few steps ahead so 'you two can catch up.' 

"Just fine," Daphne said.

"Well, you kept saying you'd get the divorce, and--"

He had. "Well," Daphne said. "I did, but...it's not bad, hanging out with Osgood.He can be a lot of fun. He's a good dancer. He bought me another diamond tennis bracelet to replace that one you gave Sugar, did I tell you?"

"There's more to life than money," Joe said.

 _Is there, though?_ Daphne thought, remembering how many times they'd had to pawn their instruments and beg for them back. "Of course, Joe. Oh, is that the place? It's jumping! Must to be nice to work a place where you don't have to worry about getting raided at the end of the night, huh?"

"Yeah, I don't mind that part. The guys who eye Sugar, now that I get tired of."

"Sure, but you gotta let her work. You gonna let all that go to waste? Get her on stage, you're gonna have more work than you know what to do with! Sweet Sue didn't know what she had, I'll tell ya."

"Yeah, I guess so," Joe said.

"I tell you, you got a bird like that, you gotta let her fly."

"Easy for you to say," Joe grumbled. "You're the bird."

"Ah, Joe, you know she's crazy about ya. Don't be like that. Besides, you bring in enough money, get a couple of steady gigs, you'll be golden. Wouldn't it be nice to not have to think about what you're gonna have to hock next?"

Joe arched an eyebrow at him. "Is it?"

"Don't knock it 'til you've tried it, Josephine."

"I've tried a lot of things this past year I thought I'd never try, Daphne."

"And look what it got you!"

Joe sighed. "Yeah," he said. "You got me there."

Sugar ended up singing at the bar at the Agua Caliente, and they staked Joe fifty bucks a night to keep him from complaining too much. (His record for holding on to it was holding steady at half an hour; pretty good deal, Daphne figured.) "You should stick around," Sugar said, one night when Osgood was happily counting chips and everyone else at the blackjack table was starting to give him funny looks.

"I'm not sure that's a great idea," Daphne said, because one of the people giving Osgood a funny look was the dealer. "Besides, we've got to get back to Havana for our anniversary. Osgood promised."

"I mean to keep that promise, too," Osgood said.

Mama had been right about Daphne. In his heart of hearts, Osgood knew she usually had been about the girls he'd fallen for. Daphne still liked the size of his bank account, but that was just looking out for herself, and no girl could be blamed for looking out for themselves, especially when they'd grown up the way Daphne had. Mama had always said a girl had to have her own money. He'd set Sugar up with a little bank account all her own in Tijuana. It might not be much, but Joe couldn't gamble it away, and that counted for something. (He liked Joe and mostly trusted him, but Mama had been very firm, and after all, an emergency fund never hurt anyone.)

They danced their way back through the Panama canal, and the cook did things with a sea turtle most people back home wouldn't have even dreamed of. Best meal Osgood had ever had, and the best company, too. They put some music on the gramophone and the staff was kind enough to go up on deck while he and Daphne danced. Daphne hummed along, not even realizing she was doing it, as she swayed, her hand on Osgood's back. She led, and he followed along, trusting her steps and the music.

He'd said to her once that nobody was perfect, but he might have been wrong about that.

Osgood had an itch to see Daphne in those ruby earrings, and Daphne didn't exactly mind, so she dolled up top to bottom, with a pair of red patent leather pumps she'd picked up in Caracas and a little black number she'd bought before the wedding. The effect wasn't too bad, if she did say so herself. She'd tried growing her hair out and it never came to more than a shaggy mess, so she had a few wigs to match her outfits. Tonight's was a black bob, just neat as a pin, to show off the earrings. Osgood would probably try to nibble on her neck at the restaurant.

"Well, darling?" he asked, through the bedroom door. "Are you almost ready? Dinner's at eight."

"We've got plenty of time, Osgood," she said, without bothering to look at the clock. "Isn't fashionably late the thing to be these days, anyway?"

"I wouldn't know." 

She couldn't help smiling at that. Her Osgood, who didn't much care what other people thought or what the latest fashions were, as long as Daphne was smiling.

"All right, all right," she said, giving her lipstick one last look before tucking it into her purse. "I'm as ready as I'll get."

He offered her his arm as they went out on deck. Daphne couldn't help but gasp a little as they went out into the light.

The sunset was like the wildest, brightest painting Daphne had ever seen. "Red sky at night, sailor's delight," Osgood said, delightedly, his arm feeling warm and steady. "See, this is why I wanted to get married here. Because I knew our anniversary would be just as beautiful."

"It sure is pretty, Osgood." 

Osgood had turned, and was staring at Daphne now. He still had that silly, besotted look he'd had the day they got married. "Well, Mrs. Fielding? Want to go dancing after dinner?"

"I suppose we could," Daphne said. Her smile was probably as goofy as Osgood's, but somehow she didn't mind.


End file.
